Hi, I'm Matthew and You?
by hikiisavage
Summary: University AU. Matthew, who is painfully timid, is smitten with the beautiful blonde man sitting his lecture three seats down. The blonde man who is a self-proclaimed love expert, just so happens to be oblivious to his own love affairs. This is a story of how Matthew wins him over using the man's own love advice. CanFran/Franada [Image by Tae, on hiimtae(dot)tumblr(dot)com]
1. Chapter 1: Hi, I'm Matthew and You?

**Hello! This is a CanFran fic. My friend will be drawing a picture to go with each chapter so once I have the link to it I will edit the chapter and upload that. Please enjoy and don't forget to review.**

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 **Chapter 1: Hi, I'm Matthew and You?**

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Today was the day.

It had been months. Matthew had been patiently sitting behind the gorgeous blonde international student, carefully observing him since the beginning of the semester. The way he pretended to take notes in class, the way fell asleep when the professor wasn't looking, the way he watched youtube videos when the lecture got particularly boring.

Being a straight A honors student, Matthew would never do any of that himself. And ordinarily he would have been completely put off by it; he was definitely put off by it when others did it. However, when the cute French student did it, Matthew found it oddly-endearing.

And so, slowly, but surely, Matthew had started falling for the way he tucked the blonde curls behind his ear, the way he smacked his gum in the middle of class, the way he snickered when the professor couldn't turn on the projector. Matthew had fallen for all of it-hard-yet, he could only admire him from a distance.

Not having the poise, nor the grace, nor the confidence the petite man had, Matthew knew that a big clumsy oaf like him had no chance of winning over Francis. Remaining distant like this, however, still allowed him to cling to the hope that he could someday muster up the courage. All that hope, however, started becoming too much to bear, and soon Matthew wanted more than just hope.

The young man had told himself that today was the day he would finally talk to him, but now that the lecture was over and beautiful blonde strode past him, the words he had practiced all night remained stuck in his throat. Just. Five. Words.

 _Hi, I'm Matthew and you?_

Granted, he already knew who he was, but it'd be creepy if he told him that. It's not like Francis had any reason to know who Matthew even was. He was just the guy who sat a few seats away from him in his general education literature elective: a dumb class everyone at the university had to take at some point. Thus there was a mix of class years from first-years to seniors.

It was almost too lucky that he had the opportunity to be in the same class as the senior. Although that just made him feel smaller and more insignificant despite his large size. The petite Frenchman was in his last year, what were the odds that he'd pay any attention to little old Matthew who was merely a first-year.

Another missed chance. Sighing, he defeatedly packed his lecture notes and slung his bag over his shoulder, dragging himself toward the dining hall. Solace from his friends would surely improve his mood-at least he had hoped.

Almost too easily, their diverse and distinct features made their group stand out. He found his brother Alfred and his friends Kiku, Feliciano, and a few others who came and went as they pleased.

"Hey guys," Matthew waved before joining them, but no one had even made a gesture to acknowledge his arrival.

Matthew tried a little louder, "H-Hey guys."

Still, everyone chatted animatedly to each other, ignoring the 185 cm gentle giant, who didn't feel like he was going to remain gentle any longer.

He _hated_ when this happened. Everyone acted like he wasn't even there. The quiet rage built inside him. Fist clenched tightly, but he took a deep breath. A confrontation was unnecessary. This wasn't important enough to draw attention to it, thus Matthew spun on his heel with the intention of curling up in his dorm room to pine away for his crush in solitude, but he walked straight into a someone, almost knocking him over due to the size difference.

"S-Sorry, I didn't notice you and-Francis!"

There he was! The very man that he was just fantasizing about, in the flesh. Francis was rubbing a sore spot on his forehead from the impact, and it was the first time Matthew had ever gotten this close to him, and he definitely took advantage of the moment.

His slim physique. The stylish sleek monochrome clothes. Slowly his eyes wandered up taking in the sight: his strong shoulders, his collar bone peeking out of his loose sweater. Matthew's eyes carefully wandered higher admiring his smooth neck, his wispy dirty blonde curls framing his pretty angular face. And what a pretty face he had, but his facial hair gave him a masculine touch that made Matthew's mouth run dry. Francis had beautiful lips and they were curled into a smirk? Finally he was met with his cool violet-no blue, they were definitely blue eyes. Those knowing blue eyes had caught him staring the entire time.

Almost instantaneously, Matthew's face was hot and flushed. Even the tips of his ears burned with shame.

"I see you know my name. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?," Francis tilted his head up to look into the tall man's eyes, chuckling by how stupefied he looked.

The action confused Matthew. Why was he looking at him with such warm eyes? It felt like the Frenchman was drilling inside him, dissecting him with just his look and so Matthew closed his tightly, trying to hide from the outside world. After a few seconds, he tentatively cracked his eye open, realizing that he was still there, suddenly feeling even more ridiculous than before.

"Uhh..." he tried to say the phrase he had practiced so many times in his head, now painfully aware that he was physically unable to use it. _Hi, I'm Matthew and you?_

"I'm Francis, but you already knew that" he said with a sly grin, his eyes never straying from Matthew's. It was a personal challenge, trying to coax his name out of him, though his smile dropped slightly when he didn't say anything.

"..." Matthew was at a loss for words. The man he had been fantasizing about was standing right before him, talking to him, and he had just so very obviously checked him out. He was completely mortified! Yet, he finally found the strength in his legs to back away from the petite man, away from his dizzying scent of-was it jasmine or roses? Regardless, Francis smelled as good as he looked, and having this ethereal being so close to him was almost suffocating.

"I'll see you in class," Francis said with a smile, hoping that by being kind the oddly silent guy would warm up to him. Francis waved goodbye to the flustered man.

All Matthew could do was dumbly wave back wordlessly, as he silently berated himself, walking away shamefully.

He could hear Francis' soft giggles behind him.

After that humiliating encounter Matthew missed that class both times that week. If it was up to him, he'd stay holed up in his room all week, however, he knew that if he missed too many classes his grades would suffer, and quite frankly he couldn't let his 4.0 drop just because of some dumb guy.

"Hey Mattie."

"..."

"Yo, Matt"

"..."

"Maaaaaaaatt~"

"..."

"MATTHEW!," Alfred hurled his body onto Matthew's as he was once sitting at his desk, diligently completing his assignments, but now he was on the floor, his brother pinning him to the ground, and a large bruise was definitely growing on his side.

"What the fuck do you want, Al?," Matthew asked in a low voice, not in the mood for dealing with his bullshit.

"Can you please record me, I'm trying to do the tide pod challenge?"

And with that, Matthew pushed his twin brother off of him and started packing his books wordlessly.

"Oh, come on Matt are you really that mad?"

He didn't answer. Nope. Matthew didn't even look at Alfred. Of course he was livid! He fucking threw him off a chair for a stupid youtube challenge, but he kept his frustration reigned in, remaining reticent. Right now was not the time to deal with Alfred. After missing those classes he had work to catch up on and Alfred's stupid antics were _not_ getting in his way.

"Mattie…" he whined, crawling on the floor towards his pant leg. Childish. He looked absolutely childish, is what Matthew thought. Sometimes it really was difficult to believe the two were twins when they acted so completely different.

Alfred was a ray of sunshine: loud, energetic, eager to try anything. He was a loose canon and when he wanted to do something he was fiercely dedicated. However, when it came to academics he was way too lackadaisical. In fact, every time Matthew scolded him for his half-hearted attitude toward school he'd reply, _C's get degrees, Mattie~_ And so here he was, second semester of his first year, already on academic probation, despite being fully capable of scoring at least B's if he put his mind to it.

And then there was Matthew. Timid. Quiet. Often overlooked. Yet he was meticulous about his work. A dedicated hard-worker. That wasn't the kind of person people noticed, that people remembered. Even his own friends often treated him as a last option, and it frankly, it was wearisome.

Reluctantly tugging along his bag filled with books behind him, he silently walked past Alfred who threw empty apologies at him, begging him to 'just record for five minutes'.

Once he finally arrived to the library, it must have been around 8 PM, prime time for studying, meaning there weren't many places available. The only empty seat he saw was… coincidentally at a communal table next to the exact beautiful blonde senior he was trying to avoid. Before he could catch his gaze, Matthew tried turning, but it was too late, Francis was already waving him over.

Twice. It had already been _twice_ in the same week he was face-to-face with his crush after pining away for more than 2 months from afar. Slowly, he marched to his doom, silently praying to not fuck this up.

"Hi," he said flatly, trying to not sound too enthusiastic for fear of coming off too strong. His gaze was fixed onto the table, and he sat without another word pulling out his books from his bright red backpack. Studying. He was here for _studying_. Not Alfred, not Francis, not anyone could distract him from that.

"Hello, silent one~," Francis purred, his accent thick, an amused grin on his face, though it slightly faltered upon realizing the other wasn't looking at him, but he pressed, "what a coincidence to see you here. We missed you in class."

Matthew didn't react. Truthfully, his stomach was cramping, his heart was pumping harder than ever, and his palms were sweaty. It would have been impossible for him to even try to say anything to Francis.

Francis on the other hand took the hint and stopped trying to talk to the other, obviously having misread the situation the other day. He had assumed with how his classmate looked at him the other day that he was at least mildly interested, but clearly he was wrong, though he stayed for a while longer to observe, just to be sure. With the silence, Matthew was finally able to fall into a rhythm with his with work, almost able to forget the other was there.

As Francis continued stealing glances, Matthew could feel his gazes and he didn't like it one bit, keeping a frown on his face almost instinctively. Was Francis angry? Should Matthew leave? He couldn't go back to his room. Alfred was driving him insane in there! He heard the shuffling of books and zipping. Snapping his head up he noticed Francis was walking away, obviously annoyed. It didn't take much to for Matthew to realized that Francis was annoyed at _him._

And just like that his chances with his crush were destroyed.

It wasn't like Matthew was hoping anything would actually would happen between them, but the sinking feeling in his gut was awful. This was worse than being invisible to Francis. He would rather go back to having him not even know who he was. Groaning, he buried his face in his books, trying to focus on his studies, resolving to deal with it later, but no matter how hard he tried to focus on the literature before him, the scowl on the pretty blonde man's face was the only thing on Matthew's mind.

Laying his head down in his books, Matthew sighed in defeat, tempted to give up on his Frenchman, although, could he even call him _his_? A man that beautiful couldn't be anyone's really. Closing his eyes, he listened to the rustling of the pages as the students around him carried on with their work, ignorant of Matthew's plight. Oh, how he definitely dreaded tomorrow's lecture. All he could think about was how the blonde hated him, all because he couldn't get the words out at the very beginning.

 _Hi, I'm Matthew and you?_

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 **Please review! Thanks for reading!**

 **Best,**

 **Kii**


	2. Chapter 2: I'm Sorry?

**Thank you for the kind reviews and follows. I ask that you keep reviewing and keep following. I will try to update this at least once a week. :)**

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Chapter 2: I'm Sorry?

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It wasn't like he could avoid him forever.

Well, technically he could, but that would involve dropping out of college, never finding a job, living in a cardboard box, sucking dick for heroi-and now he was spiraling. Matthew took a deep breath before stepping into the lecture hall five minutes before class started as usual. He needed that time to make sure his notes were in order.

A quick scan of the room told him that his target was nowhere to be found. He released a shaky breath and relaxed as he sat in his usual seat, three seats down from Francis'. The minutes passed and the lecture hall filled but there was still no sign of the wispy dirty blonde hair he had grown so fond of.

During the lecture, he couldn't focus as he tried scribbling everything the old man droned on about, all too aware of the empty seat near the front of the room. Almost twenty minutes in, the door creaked and confident footsteps strode right past the front of the room. The blonde man waved to the professor-a cheeky move-and he took his place as though he didn't just interrupt a lecture hall with over 50 people.

Matthew watched the entire scene feeling secondhand embarrassment. How could Francis do something like that so shamelessly? The gentle giant tried to make himself smaller, hunching over in his seat, hiding his face in his book, shocked that someone who have the gall to so blatantly disrespect a _professor_ like that. But the old man just chuckled heartily, taking it all in stride.

When the lecture ended, Matthew wanted to get as far away as possible from Francis, ready to continue avoiding him, so he scrambled to get his pens and notes back in his bag. As he was grabbing his notebook, a foreign hand slammed itself onto the cover, holding it firmly in place. Matthew's eyes followed the muscular arm littered with light blonde hairs.

"What the hell is your problem with me?," on his face was a smile, but his tone was sharp.

 _No, no, no_. This isn't what he wanted. He just wanted Francis to notice him, but not like this! Matthew could only stare back at him, stunned at how someone could look so beautiful yet so intimidating.

"Well? I'm waiting," Francis lifted an eyebrow, lazily dropping his hand off of the notebook. He casually leaned off of an empty desk as the students continued pouring out of the room. "Did I do something to offend you?," his tone was concerned, or worried, perhaps guilty even, and that was when Matthew knew he had to force himself to say _something._

"N-No…," Matthew finally stammered out hoarsely, somehow able to find his voice despite his thumping heart. He really hoped to God that Francis couldn't hear it, but the sound was almost deafening in his own ears. Rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans he kept his gaze fixed to the desk in front of him as he remained seated, facing the front of the room.

"Ah, so he speaks," Francis said with relief, gingerly sitting on the seat in front of Matthew, though he straddled the chair so he could face the silent brooding man. Now yet again, Matthew was painfully close to _him._ Whether Francis was mocking him, or ignorant of his plight, Matthew still wasn't sure. The beautiful blonde placed both elbows on Matthew's desk, and propped his head up on his hands, observing him closely.

Matthew on the other hand could hear his blood coursing through his ears from how hard his heart was pumping, and instinctively slid his seat back trying to put some distance between them. It was that flowery scent again, that mysterious smile, those violet-blue eyes boring into him; it was all sensory overload for Matthew to handle right now.

Francis on the other hand seemed almost offended that Matthew had jumped back from him, but he stood his ground, keeping his elbows on the first-year's desk.

Tentatively, Matthew brought one of his large calloused hands to his face, confirming his fear that yes he was indeed blushing madly, while Francis silently watched him. Although without his usual grin, it was unnerving. He couldn't tell what the man was thinking. Was he upset? Was he forgiven?

Unsure of what to say next, Matthew uttered the words that came most naturally to him, "I'm sorry." What was he apologizing for? He wasn't particularly sure, but the guilt he felt upon seeing Francis' expression felt unbearable.

Francis could only scoff, turning up his nose at Matthew. "I'm not here for an apology."

Matthew's shoulders hunched further into himself. If only the chair he sat on could swallow him whole... He could think of a million other places he'd rather be than here. "T-Then… uh…," he swallowed thickly, unsure how to fill the heavy silence between them, but Francis wouldn't look at Matthew anymore.

God, Matthew had never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

"I was actually looking for you last week when you decided to skip class," he leaned back against the desk behind him, stretching his arms above his head.

Matthew glanced down and happened to catch a peek of his flat abs and they were maddeningly, intoxicatingly-

"You're friends with Feliciano, right?," Matthew could only blink in confusion, unsure where this was going.

"Yeah…?," he said, although it sounded more like a question. Rolling his eyes, Francis clearly looked annoyed.

"Can you introduce me? I've been trying to talk to him all week, but he's always with his brother," he shuddered, "I feel like he might rip my dick off for just looking at him."

Shifting in his seat, he felt an uncomfortable bubbling inside him. Was Francis interested in Feliciano? Sneaking a glance at him, he froze when he realized those blue eyes were looking straight at him, and it was too awkward for him to look away.

Was it obvious how distressed he was? How much he liked Francis?

"Would you happen to know if Feliciano is interested in men?"

Just then, it felt like his heart shattered into a million pieces. No longer could he hear the words Francis was saying. Dropping his head, he grabbed his bag, and quickly left the room, his notebook forgotten, as Francis called out behind him, still unsure of his name.

Matthew knew that if he stayed there any longer, Francis would have noticed the hot tears pooling in his eyes.

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What was that? They were finally having a normal conversation, when the mysterious guy suddenly took off, and he looked pissed as hell. Was he interested in Feliciano? It was the only possible explanation Francis could think of, and he concluded that maybe it was why he was acting so standoffish around the Frenchman.

Well, shit. He definitely didn't want to mess with the love interest of a huge guy like that, no matter how cute Feliciano was. It definitely wasn't worth it, but it was _so_ disappointing. After all, Feliciano had the cutest ass he'd ever seen. Sighing, the blonde rested his head against the quiet guy's desk, feeling stupid for having figured it all out so late. Even if he was notoriously flirtatious, it wasn't in his nature to go after someone else's prey, so he'd definitely have to apologize the next time he saw the mysterious guy.

As he leaned against his desk, Underneath his cheek, he felt something other than cold steel: a leather bound notebook? Francis snorted. Who still used those anyway? Almost everyone in the lecture used binders or spiral notebooks, this silent guy was definitely an old soul if he used a leather bound notebook. Curiosity burning at his fingertips, he peeled back the first few pages, impressed by the meticulous notes and elegant handwriting.

His own notes were pitiful, but truthfully, as a senior, he knew this class was useless and taking notes was rather pointless so that could only mean one of two things, the mysterious guy was either: a first-year or a nerd. Flipping through the pages, he found a name at the top of one of them, _Matthew Williams_.

" _Matthieu,_ " he said the name to himself quietly in the empty lecture hall, as he skimmed through the notes, though he was really more observing the careful pen strokes rather than the content of the lectures. After a few minutes, he realized what he was doing and packed his own bag, taking this 'Matthew's' notebook with him.

"Francis! What took you so long!," a tanned arm wrapped itself around the blonde's slim waist, pulling him closer to his dear friend's body. Francis could only chuckle at his friend's antics, welcoming the close contact, being the affectionate man that he was.

"I was trying to see if I could talk to one of Feliciano's friends, but I think my precious Italian stallion is taken."

"Ay, that's too bad. I'm sorry," Antonio wrapped his other arm around Francis pulling him in for a comforting hug, "but don't forget my offer is still on the table," he chuckled, only to be smacked playfully on the back by the heartbroken man.

"Oh, stop mocking me, _Antoine,_ " he rolled his eyes, using the dreaded French variant of his friend's name. Now it was Antonio rolling his eyes, letting go of him and stepping in front of Francis.

"Come, _Francisco,_ let's find Gilbert. It's Friday and we should be drunk by now."

"Toni. It's only noon," he deadpanned, pointing to the designer watch on his wrist, but Antonio turned around, grinning brightly.

"That just means we can keep drinking longer!"

"No… that just means we're going to pass out by dinner time," Francis muttered to himself, but Antonio had already skipped along, eager to find their third drinking buddy.

* * *

"Chug! Chug! Chug!," Alfred, along with some of his other friends cheered as Matthew forcefully drank the sugary concoction known as jungle juice.

"Eugh, what's in this?"

"Shh… Mattie, don't even ask, don't even ask," the outgoing twin slurred, running his hand over the quiet twins face in an attempt to quiet him down. He clearly had one shot too many if the swaying on his feet or the red flush on his cheeks were any indicators.

"Al, should I take you back to the room?" Matthew was concerned, but the haze of alcohol was starting to affect him too. After what happened with him earlier with Francis, he wasn't sure how much he had to drink, but being friends with some older students they had gotten the opportunity to join in on a house party and drink to their hearts' content, uncharacteristic of Matthew, who usually spent Friday nights toiling away at the library.

"Dude stop, Artie's like right over there. I'm so fucking ready to make my move," Alfred smacked Mathew's hands away and pointed towards a short blonde guy who was yelling rather emphatically to a handsome man with long hair, who seemed oddly familiar, but with Matthew's drunken mind he couldn't quite place him.

"Hey, Matthew," a voice called out over the music from behind him, though he turned around and saw nothing but air. A soft chuckle. "No, down here, silly!"

"Oh, hey Feliciano," Matthew greeted bitterly the alcohol making him more honest than usual, though he quickly smacked his cheek, reminding himself that it wasn't the cheery Italian's fault that Francis was interested in him.

"Uh, are you okay?"

"Ahaha…," the flush on his cheeks was either from embarrassment or alcohol or maybe both, "I'm fine, I just remembered something stupid…," his voice trailed off, avoiding the small man's brown eyes. "What's up, is there something you needed?"

"You just seemed a little bit down is all," Feliciano looked down at his solo cup with a bit of disgust, before setting it down on a coffee table. "If something's wrong you know you can talk to your friends, ok?"

The smile that grew on Matthew's face had to be a product of the alcohol, but he thanked him anyway. And almost too suddenly, the overly affectionate Feliciano launched himself into Matthew's arms, giving his friend a tight hug. With the help of all the drinks he had that night, he hugged him back, chuckling to diffuse just how uncomfortable he actually was.

The two returned to the rest of their friends, chatting away, enjoying the rest of the party.

Alongside Gilbert and Antonio, Francis threw back another shot as he watched Matthew walk away with his arm around Feliciano.


	3. Chapter 3: Love Advice?

**Sorry for the delay. I meant to upload on Sunday, but some things were a little hectic for me. Without further ado, here is Chapter 3. I want to thank everyone for the follows and the kind reviews. Also thank you to my friend Tae who is drawing a picture to accompany each chapter. You can check out her work on tumblr. Her username is canfranalot!**

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 **Chapter 3: Love Advice?**

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All the crying he had done that weekend was almost cathartic.

Yet, his swollen red eyes garnered concerned looked from his peers as they walked by his desk as soon as the lecture finished. "Uh, allergies," he muttered, pointing to his face, when questioned.

It had been a really shitty weekend. Not only had he spent both Saturday _and_ Sunday hungover, he had also been crying, _and_ he couldn't seem to find his notebook for this lecture. Stuffing the substitute spiral notebook he had used for notetaking today in his bag, he began dragging himself out of the room and down the hallway until he heard someone call out his name-er-well, sort of.

"Mathieu! Wait!"

That voice sounded very familiar, but it shouldn't have known his name, so when he turned around and saw the effortlessly cool Frenchman jogging toward him, holding his notebook, he was rightfully confused, and hurt upon seeing his face, a painful reminder of his lost chance at love.

Once Francis caught up to him, he rested his hands on his knees, panting lightly, making a gesture towards Matthew asking him to wait. As much as he wanted to continue wallowing in self-pity, the Canadian couldn't help but snicker, mildly surprised that such a short distance would make his crush so out of breath.

"Smoker," he explained with an embarrassed grin upon hearing Matt's laughter, and he continued, "here ...you go," he said between breaths.

 _A smoker, huh?_ Oddly enough, he didn't feel too put off by the new knowledge. For some reason it suited him, though he was impressed at the lack of smoker smell he had. Maybe it was cologne?

"You didn't have to run for that," Matthew took his notebook, relieved that he wouldn't have to scramble for replacement notes. It was tedious as hell to take such great notes, and he had to admit that it was painful when he thought that they were gone for good. Finally taking a good look at Francis, as a classmate, not his crush, he let out a shaky breath.

It wasn't like he'd stop running into him, and he had definitely acted like an asshole these past few days. Matthew knew this crush wasn't going anywhere, and if he let this consume him, he really was going to let his perfect grades slip for some dumb guy-a ridiculously hot one-but a dumb guy nonetheless. So, Matthew did what came most naturally to him:

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

They both looked at each other in confusion. Grateful for the item in his grasp, he suddenly became very interested in his notebook, and Matthew directed his attention to it, uncomfortable with the guilty look Francis was giving him. Why did he look so upset? Did he realize Matthew's feelings? What was he even apologizing for?

"Mathieu, I don't understand." Francis' brow was furrowed trying to dissect the enigma this man was. It had taken him over a week to figure out his name, perhaps anything more would be considered selfish on his part.

 _Mathieu._ The way Francis said his name, not quite correctly made him feel like he was melting, and he definitely wanted to hear more of it . _Mathieu. Mathieu. Mathieu._ He almost wasn't even listening to what the other was saying.

"-I asked what are you apologizing for?," he repeated a little more loudly, and that was when Matthew zoned back in, ashamed for the thoughts he was having right in front of the focus of his fantasies-just when he was getting ready to give up on him.

"O-Oh, I was kind of rude to you this past week. You're my upper classmen so I should show you some more respect," his voice was shaky and he couldn't meet Francis' blue eyes, the blue eyes that he had lost himself in just the other day.

"I am? What year are you?" You could _hear_ the grin in his voice. It was obvious to Francis that Matthew knew way more about him than he should have. "How do you know what year I am?"

"Mutual friends!" his voice came out higher pitched than he intended, and he briefly wondered if hiding his warm face behind the notebook in his hand would be _too_ obvious. "I'm a first year."

"So you've been asking around about me?," Francis teased, but it was all in jest, after all, he knew-or at least thought he knew- that Matthew liked Feliciano. Ah, and that was the reason he was apologizing. Matthew on the other hand felt like he could combust on the spot, and now he really was hiding behind the notebook in his hands. "I must say I'm quite flattered, but I must be going now. Do not fret, I won't be pursuing Feliciano any longer."

As Francis sauntered down the hallway away from him, Matthew waved meekly at the beautiful man. Gosh. And here he was trying his hardest to convince himself to not like him, but everything about him screamed elegance, beauty, even his haughty tone and snobbish demeanor. But there was one thing he said that made his head spin, _I won't be pursuing Feliciano any longer_. Why? Did he realize his crush? That would have been mortifying.

* * *

The days went on and every day after lecture, the two young men found themselves exchanging pleasantries. At first, Matthew was completely out of his element. Small talk was definitely _not_ his thing, but slowly he got used to it. The dramatic sighs, over-exaggerated complaints, his effeminate tendencies. Matthew grew to familiarize himself with all of it and soon discovered Francis wasn't as intimidating as he thought, but being around him still made him dizzy with nerves. This was definitely not the way to get over a crush, but now that they were getting closer, a tiny part of him wondered if he actually had a shot.

They weren't friends, but definitely more than strangers at this point. And even though the thought of a romance with the gorgeous Frenchman beside him sounded like a dream, the idea of friendship was becoming attractive, too. Witty. Funny. Expressive. It was like he was everything Matthew wasn't. Would a friendship like that really work? What if he just got bored with him? A relationship definitely wouldn't work out. Matthew was so... _boring!_

"Can you believe it? All I asked him was if _everything_ was going to be on the test. If it isn't I don't want to waste my time studying!" Francis huffed as he walked down the hallway beside Matthew. Chuckling, he listened to the animated man beside him, thinking to himself how amazing he looked in that outfit. But truthfully, everything looked amazing on him, even if he was dressed in only a plastic bag… with nothing underneath. The sinful thoughts kept coming back again and again whenever he was around him, and the warmth spread through his cheeks. It wasn't like he was a pervert, but after pining over him for so long, having him so close, so consistently; it was sensory overload.

"You _should_ be studying everything, you know," he scolded. Something he had learned these past few days were just how incredibly lazy Francis was when it came to his academics, practically Matthew's polar opposite. Maybe he was more passionate about the classes in his actual major? Either way, it was in Matthew's nature to do his best diligently, even if he didn't like the subject matter.

"So, how's it going with that little crush you have?" The innocent question came from seemingly nowhere.

Matthew froze. Was it really that obvious? He opted to play blissfully ignorant, despite the sudden clamminess in his hands and the pounding of his nervous heartbeat. "W-What are you talking about, Francis?" The nervous stutter definitely giving him away. As they walked down the hallway toward the library, Matthew kept his gaze trained to the ground, but he could feel Francis watching him from the corner of his eye, and the thought made him want to retreat further into himself, shoulders hunched. Hiding was way too difficult when you're as big as he was.

"Feliciano, have you confessed yet?," chuckling, he found Matthew's shyness endearing, but sometimes it frustrated him, too. It felt like he was almost holding himself back from something. And of course, Francis knew that love could pull this man out of his shell. "If you need help, I'm quite talented at romancing others. I can give you some advice," he offered, coupled with one of his playful grins. Oh, to play cupid? This would be far too entertaining and he definitely couldn't pass up the opportunity. The longing look in his eyes, the wistful dreamy look he often had, Francis was sure of it. Matthew was definitely in love!

Matthew on the other hand had never felt so confused. What did he mean Feliciano? Sure, he was friends with the petite Italian man, but there were no feelings involved other than friendship, and before he could deny it, everything made sense. Francis backing off? The apology? Of course, he definitely stopped pursuing his target because of a misunderstanding. And what a situation to be caught in. Weighing the pros and cons, should he tell Francis the truth and risk him dating his friend? Or should he keep his mouth shut and prevent him from pursuing the Italian, simultaneously shooting down any chances he'd have with the Frenchman? Having originally given up on Francis, the pained look he had made it clear that he was still clinging to some false hope, especially with their casual conversations after class.

Before he knew it, they had stopped walking. Library. They were already here.

"My, my, Mathieu, no need to be so timid. My lips are sealed. I just wish to help," Francis assured him, smiling at his underclassman. So admittedly, he was growing fond of him, developing an over protectiveness over him. Being so much older meant that he had more experience, and with how reserved the Canadian was he was definitely more experienced in all facets of life. Eager to share his abundant knowledge, he made a promise to himself to assist him win his love no matter what.

Matthew selfishly opted to keep Francis close to him and with a trembling voice he responded, "S-Sure, you can help me."

With a flourish, Francis bowed before him, donning his signature charming smile, "I am the expert of romance and I will not rest until your love is just as smitten as you are with him," he promised, not particularly caring for the students walking by staring at his theatrics by the library entrance. The blush on his cheeks said Matthew was self-conscious of the onlookers, but his shy smile said he was grateful for the efforts Francis was willing to go through for just another ordinary classmate like himself.

And that just made him feel even guiltier for lying, but he was already in too deep, and now he had a reason to reach out to Francis regularly. Gosh, he was such an awful person.

* * *

 **Thanks for getting through this chapter, sorry it's a little shorter than the others. Please review and share this with your friends!**

 **Best,**

 **Kii**


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